


Wide o' the Bow Hand

by Kaleidoscope_Carousel



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:12:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1436317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaleidoscope_Carousel/pseuds/Kaleidoscope_Carousel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nyssa teaches Sara archery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wide o' the Bow Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CyberQueens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberQueens/gifts).



> I've never actually done any archery lessons except at summer camp, eons ago. So I madly researched wikipedia, youtube videos, and archery sites. And I may have used this as an excuse to stare at a Sara .gif for ages. Anyone who knows better than I about this topic, feel free to correct me. Thank you to BCRebel for the beta!  
> Title is from Love's Labours Lost and is actually an expression that means "off the mark", but apparently I am on a Shakespeare referencing kick for titles.

“Take a deep breath and focus,” Nyssa’s voice is calm and steady as Sara pulls the bow string taut. She can sense more than see the other woman circling behind her. “Concentrate on your target. Release the breath and arrow in the same moment.” Sara breathes in, and then out, letting her fingers relax. The bow string snaps forward and launches the arrow through the air. . .and to the left of the target where it clatters harmlessly to the ground. She lets her bow arm drop, and half jogs to the far end of the yard to pick the fallen projectile and its brothers up, and brings them back to the arrow stand at the shooting line. She can feel herself grinding her teeth. They’ve been practising for almost an hour, Nyssa demonstrating and Sara trying to mimic her actions, and she has yet to hit a single target.

“Sara,” Nyssa’s voice cuts through her thoughts. “I can see the tension in your body. I know it is difficult, but one of the most important things in archery is to be relaxed. You will never hit your target if you are too tense. Watch, again.” Although the rest of the morning has been incredibly frustrating, this part of the exercise Sara definitely enjoys. Any excuse to watch Nyssa in her element is fine by her. Nyssa moves like water, or like the aerial silks she practises for hours each day, fluid and effortless and so, so smooth. Sara watches as Nyssa once again nocks the arrow and in one easy motion brings the bow up, aims, and fires. She can see the shaft of the arrow quivering from impact right in the centre of the bullseye painted on the target. Once satisfied with her performance, Nyssa lowers her bow. “Now, let me see you again.”

Sara steps uneasily up to the shooting line, and lines up her stance with the target, feet shoulder width apart like Nyssa had shown her. She nocks the arrow, gripping the bow string with her index finger above the shaft and the next two fingers below, copying Nyssa’s drawing style, and brings the bow up, pulling her elbow high and back. She’d always thought that archery would use the arm muscles, but once Nyssa had shown her the proper technique (after her first arrow had fallen pitifully short) it was the muscles in her back that were screaming at her. She takes a deep breath in and tries to empty her mind. She sights her target and with a release of breath lets the arrow fly. 

This one manages to graze the edge of the target, but only enough to be knocked off course again, landing on the ground. “I can’t do this, Nyssa.” Sara says, “Please can I just go back to the bo staff? I feel so useless. At least with the staff I can manage to hit what I’m aiming at.”

“It is important to be at least competent with several different weapons. You must always be prepared for any eventuality. If you are disarmed, and the only weapon within reach is a bow, what would you do?”

“I dunno, probably smack them over the head with the bow, then run away.” Sara huffs. Nyssa frowns.

“You may think this is funny now, but I am trying to teach you something that may save your life later. At least do me the courtesy of attempting to learn.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. But I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong. I’ve got the stance, and I’m bringing my elbow up like you said. I’m doing my best to relax and breathe and focus, but I still can’t get it.” Nyssa comes up to stand next to Sara. 

“Show me,” she says. “Slowly,” she adds, “show me how you shoot.” Sara nods, and once again nocks her arrow and brings the bow up. “Wait,” Nyssa says, and circles around behind Sara to stand next to her bow arm. “Do you feel how tightly you are gripping the bow?” She reaches out and brushes her fingertips across Sara’s knuckles. Sara can feel her hand relaxing under Nyssa’s touch “You cannot choke it into submission, little bird. Adjust your grip, hold it more loosely.” Sara does. “There, much better. And do not keep your bow arm so straight. There should be a little bend, at least, or you will grate your skin raw when the string is released.” Nyssa runs her hand gently over Sara’s bow arm, where the skin is reddened from the string. Her hands are cool, and it soothes a little of the sting. She also adjusts the curve of Sara’s arm. 

“Does that feel better?” Nyssa asks. Sara nods.

“Yes,” she says, and she’s not sure if she’s referring to her hold on the bow, or where her skin is still feeling the ghosts of Nyssa’s touch on her hand and arm.

“Good. Let it fly.” Sara releases the string and watches as the projectile cuts a path through the air and for the first time lands and lodges itself in the target. It’s high and to the left of the painted bullseye, but the arrow has firmly stuck itself into the canvas square at the far side of the range. Sara can feel the muscles in her neck and shoulders relax now that she’s finally managed to hit something besides the ground, and she turns to see Nyssa smiling at her. “Well done. But I’m sure we can do better. Try it again.”

Sara bites her lip and picks another arrow from the stand. She loosens her grip on the bow slightly and nocks the arrow, bringing the bow up, sighting, drawing, releasing. The arrow lands with a satisfying thunk, but again it doesn’t touch the painted circles, instead lodging itself below and to the left. 

“Still not quite there, but it is very good progress. Give yourself some more time on your follow through. If you let the bow fall too soon after the release, the movement will throw the trajectory off.” Nyssa says. “Also, are you making sure to sight properly?”

“Along the line of the arrow?” Sara says.

“Yes, but over the string. Many of your shots are going wide to the left and this may be the problem. Look to your sightlines.” Sara nods. “One last thing, little bird, have you fixed your anchor point.”

Sara turns to look at Nyssa, letting the hand holding the bow drop to her side. “Anchor point?” she asks.

“Have you forgotten already? I know you are capable of listening, because I have seen your improvement, but I believe I spoke to you of this already.” Sara is glad her cheeks are already red from heat and exertion because she’s pretty sure she’s blushing. She had tried to listen to what Nyssa was saying, but at a certain point she was much more aware of the way Nyssa’s mouth moved than what was coming out of it. While she was back in college, and even in high school, she would sometimes become fascinated by the lips of some of her female classmates, but not like this. She’s never wanted to kiss any of them as much as she wants to kiss Nyssa, even as she’s chastising her.

“I guess I did forget. Could you tell me again?”

“The anchor point is the place on your face to which you draw the string. It should be consistent every time.” Nyssa draws closer to Sara as she speaks. She’s close enough now that Sara has to look up to look her in the eyes. “The anchor point helps keep your shots grouped and consistent. Draw the bow, and show me where it feels comfortable. Do not bother with an arrow, but remember not to dry fire the bow. Bring the string back to position once you are done, do not release it.” 

Sara does as she’s told, bringing her string hand back into position and pulling it back as if she were about to shoot. “Can you feel where your hand is?” Nyssa asks, her breath tickling Sara’s face.

“Yes,” she whispers, then stronger, “yes I can.”

“That is your anchor point. Remember to always come back to that position.” Sara eases the tension out of the string and lowers the bow again, looking to Nyssa.

“How will I remember it?” she asks.

“Your body will do it for you, but if you need a little assistance at first. . .” Nyssa leans forward and licks her lips. Sara holds her breath as Nyssa presses her lips to the point just below Sara’s cheekbone where her hand had been. “There,” she whispers against Sara’s skin, before pulling away. Sara can feel the slight breeze cooling her cheek where Nyssa had kissed her, although the rest of her was suddenly very, very warm. “Now there is only one more thing I can tell you that will help you improve.”

“What’s that?” Sara asks, her throat dry. Nyssa gets a wicked gleam in her eye.

“Practice!” she says smirking, and practically skipping away as she laughs, “You can leave no earlier than noon, Sara, I will see you then.” Nyssa then ducks into the building behind them leaving Sara holding her bow in the courtyard, disbelief written all over her face. 

The next shot Sara takes, however, lands inside the circle.


End file.
